The Colour of Gold (25 page)

"No. She lives
somewhere in Soweto." Bogdan said.

"Unfortunately,
Mister Vodnik, I have no alternative but to arrest you under the
Immorality Act of 1950 and also on suspicion of murder." Smit said.
"Once we find this Catherine we can decide what to do about the
second charge."

The detective
read Bogdan his rights and then formally arrested him.

"I'm not going
to handcuff you unless you resist." Smit said. "Shall we go to the
charge office and complete the formalities?"

Bogdan nodded.
The second policeman opened the office door and the three men
walked out. They went through the reception area and out of the
building. They climbed into an unmarked white Datsun and drove
away.

***

"Anything more
on the Germiston Magistrates Court bombing?" Brigadier van Tonder
asked.

"No, sir."
Tiaan Botha said as he sat down in one of the visitor's chairs in
the Brigadier's office. "It's becoming very obvious that the
enemy's looking for publicity by trying to show that they're
"freedom fighters" and not "terrorists"".

The Brigadier
nodded, his expression grim.

"We've got to
find a way to stop them." he said. "Show the world that they're
murderers working for their own agenda. What kind of bomb was
it?"

"A homemade
bomb using commercial explosives probably stolen from one of the
gold mines." Tiaan replied. "These mining companies are far too lax
with their explosives. We need a law that will make them
responsible for the damage that's done when the enemy uses their
explosives."

"That's a good
idea." the Brigadier said. "I'll push it at the next ministerial
meeting on defence. Anything further on that kaffir who went to
Lesotho?"

"Yes. Something
quite interesting, in fact." Tiaan said. "One of my informants
followed him one Saturday morning a week or two ago. The guy went
to Hillbrow and met with a white guy at a pavement coffee shop.
They spoke for a while and then this Zuma fellow handed the white
guy and envelope and the guy left. My informant decided to follow
the white guy who went to an apartment block in Kotze Street and
then left shortly after in his car. My guy took down the vehicle's
registration number and we checked it out. The car belonged to a
white immigrant from Yugoslavia who works for the Deep reef Gold
Mine as a buyer. A man by the name of Bogdan Vodnik. The guy's been
in trouble with the police before, mainly for dealing in stolen
goods. He got fired from the shipping company where he worked in
Durban and came up here to work for Deep Reef Gold Mine."

"That's
interesting." the Brigadier said. "If that Zuma fellow is working
for the A.N.C. then you may have a valuable lead."

"Yes, but
there's even more to this Vodnik chap." Tiaan said. "Our
intelligence chaps followed up on the information they had and tell
me that he was arrested a few days ago for immorality. Apparently
he's been having an affair with the domestic worker who cleans
house for him and his wife."

The Brigadier
smiled and shook his head.

"These
immigrants." he said. "They'll fuck anything that moves. But if he
was seen with that Zuma fellow then perhaps you should take him
aside and have a friendly "chat" with him. He might be able to tell
you something interesting."

"I'm planning
to do that, sir." Tiaan said. "I'm just waiting for Detective Smit
to find the domestic worker. Apparently she's disappeared and Smit
thinks that this Vodnik may heave killed her. Once we know that
she's alive and can take her into custody we'll be in a strong
position to "chat" with the bastard. Of course, if she's dead, so
much the better. It's amazing what people will tell you if they
think that they have the death penalty hanging over them."

"Even if she's
alive, perhaps it would be an idea not to tell this Vodnik fellow."
the Brigadier said. "Let him think he's in really big trouble. That
might loosen his tongue even more."

"Good idea,
sir." Tiaan said.

CHAPTER
10

Bala, Fatima
and Salona stared in disbelief at the single-room barrack that the
government had allocated to them. It was less than half the size of
the little house that they had just vacated in Pageview. Their
furniture and other possessions lay in a large pile on the dusty
ground. Fortunately the sky was clear and Bala shuddered to think
of what would have happened if it had rained.

"Why are we
coming to live here?" Salona asked as she clutched her mother's
hand. "Why did we leave our house to come here? I don't like it
here."

"One day you'll
understand, dearest." Fatima said, smiling encouragingly. "It's not
what your father and I wanted to do but we are here now and we just
have to accept it. Don't worry, my love. In the end it will all
work out nicely. Even this is better than what we had in Durban and
soon we'll have a new house to live in."

"But none of my
friends are here." Salona protested as she looked around the bare,
squalid surroundings.

"Your mother's
quite right, my precious child." Bala said as he bent down and
hugged his daughter. "Soon we'll have a brand new house and new
neighbours and lots of new friends. You'll also be going to big
school where there will be lots of girls your age that you can make
friends with."

"But I liked
our house so much!" Salona protested. "Can't we go back there?
Please?"

Bala looked
away, frustrated and angry at what was being done to them. The move
from Durban to Johannesburg had been very traumatic for Salona and
now her newly-found security was again being challenged. How do you
explain the evil ideology of apartheid to a five-year old; how do
you explain that what we're doing has been forced upon us by
uncaring and cruel people; how do you explain race hatred?

Bala turned
back to his daughter.

"The house that
we're going to live in will be even better than our old house, my
dearest." he said. "Everything will be new and we can decorate it
to suit ourselves. It's going to be so exciting! Just wait and
see."

While the men
had been offloading the furniture and other goods, Bala had asked
Mister Coetzee how long they would have to live in the barracks
before a house became available.

"I really don't
know, Mister Desai." the official replied. "It all depends on the
builders. They're under contract to build the houses for the
government but, as far as I know, they're all far behind schedule.
At a guess, I would say, anything between four and six weeks. Maybe
longer."

Bala forced
himself to remain calm.

"Do you know
which house had been allocated to us?" he asked.

Coetzee
consulted the notes on his clipboard.

"That depends
very much on which houses are finished first." the official said.
"As each house is completed it is allocated to the next family in
line. But all the houses are the same design so, if you've seen one
of them, you've seen them all. The house that you'll get will be
one of those in that suburb over there."

Coetzee pointed
to a group of about fifty houses in various stages of completion
about two kilometres away.

"When you've
moved into your barrack go and look at those houses." Coetzee
continued. "As I say, they're all the same design. The only
difference is the direction that the houses face."

The foreman of
the black removal crew approached Coetzee.

"Everything's
off the truck, baas." the man said.

"Okay." the
white man said. "Let's go back to Pageview. There's another bloody
family to be moved today."

Without another
word to Bala, the white official hurried to his car and climbed in.
The black removal team climbed onto the back of the truck. The two
vehicles' engines came to life and they drove away in a cloud of
dust.

As Bala walked
to where Fatima and Salona were standing staring at the pile of
furniture and other belongings on the ground in front of the
barracks, he noticed he noticed a group of about twenty Indians
approaching.

"Excuse me."
the leader of the group said as he reached Bala's side. "Are you
Mister Bala Desai?"

"Yes, I'm Bala
Desai." Bala replied.

"I'm Mister
Varachia." the man said as he extended his hand and then gestured
towards the people with him. "We are all residents of Lenasia. Some
of have been here for several years while others have only arrived
here recently. We've come to help you and your family move into
your barrack and to help you in any other way that we can. We've
all come to accept the injustice that we've been subjected to and
have all vowed never to let the white authorities break us. We are
determined to survive and, if possible, even thrive."

Bala felt tears
come to his eyes as he looked around at the people who had come to
help him. Their concern for his plight almost overwhelmed him.

"Thank you so
much." he said, his voice husky with emotion. "This is my wife
Fatima and my daughter Salona."

Mister Varachia
was a tall man of about sixty with grey hair and a short grey
beard. His brown eyes were kindly and direct. From the frayed
condition of his light grey suit Bala could see that the man was
experiencing difficult times. He also noticed that many of the
women were carrying large dishes of food, cutlery and crockery.

"What I suggest
we do is move all your furniture into the house except for the
kitchen table." Mister Varachia said. "We'll put the food and drink
on the table and, after we've moved everything into the barrack, we
can rest and have something to eat and drink. There's more than
enough food and drink for all of us."

Mister
Varachia's group obviously had a great deal of experience at
helping new arrivals to Lenasia to settle into their new homes, and
with a few directions from Bala and Fatima, all the furniture and
other items were quickly installed in the single room. Everyone
then washed their hands at a nearby tap and then stood around the
table helping themselves to food, talking to Bala and Fatima and
making a great deal of fuss over Salona. Bala felt extremely
humbled as it had never occurred to him that the other residents of
Lenasia would go such lengths to help him and his family. The
concern for their welfare, the advice and the offers of help were
overwhelming.

"I think that,
given time, we're actually going to be very happy here." he
whispered to Fatima.

***

Bala, Fatima
and Salona finally moved to their allocated house in Lenasia
Extension 2 five weeks after first moving to Lenasia. The house
faced north and had two bedrooms, a living room, a very small
bathroom without an indoor toilet, and a kitchen. The outside
toilet bothered Bala and when he asked the building superintendent
if it was possible to have it moved and attached to the house he
was told that this was possible but that he, Bala, would be
responsible for submitting plans to the Building Department and
also for the cost of the alteration.

The plastered
walls of the house were painted beige, both inside and outside and
the roof was grey corrugated asbestos sheeting. The gutters, down
pipes and window frames were painted dark brown and the tiny plot
of rubble-strewn land was surrounded by a wire mesh fence with a
small metal tubing gate at the front.

During the time
that Bala and his family lived in the barracks he and Fatima had
spent the evenings and weekends visiting families in the township
and telling them about their tailoring business and the service
that they were offering. The response was encouraging and every
morning Bala lugged his old suitcase filled with clothing that
needed to be repaired or altered from the barracks to Lenz station
and from Braamfontein station to the shop in the Oriental Plaza. In
the evenings he carried the suitcase back to Lenasia filled with
the altered or repaired clothes. He would then go from house to
house returning the garments and collecting his money. It was a
long day as he left the barracks at six o'clock each morning and
seldom got home before ten o'clock when he would sit down with
Fatima and they would have their evening meal. It worried him
greatly though, that he only saw Salona on Saturday evenings and on
Sundays and he desperately missed his beloved little girl.

Most of Bala's
customers who had supported his business while his shop had been at
Fourteenth Street continued to support him after he moved to the
Oriental Plaza and with the extra income that he derived from the
work he received from the residents of Lenasia he was able, not
only to meet his rental commitment, but also cover the cost of
travelling to and from the city each day.

Before they had
moved to their new house Fatima had managed to rearrange the
furniture in the barrack so that she could install her sewing
machine and was thus able to do her share of the alterations and
repairs at home while looking after Salona. She worried constantly
about Bala travelling on the crowded trains with his suitcase of
clothes. There were constant stories of people being robbed and
even murdered by young black thugs on the trains that had no
security guards. She always felt a sense of relief when she saw her
beloved husband trudging along the dusty road from the station in
the evenings, leaning heavily to one side as he counteracted the
weight of the heavy suitcase in his hand.

"As soon as we
have enough money I'm going to buy a suitcase with wheels." he told
Fatima. "In the mean time I'll draw my strength from the knowledge
that each time I bring the suitcase back filled with clothes it's
bringing us money.

Fatima hugged
her weary husband.

"Oh, Bala. I
love you so much." she said. "I'm so fortunate to have such a
wonderful man for my husband. What would I do without you?"